#Joker has a little crush on Al he's totally admiring the view
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ramblinganthropologist · 3 years ago
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MER Week #1 - “Fun” in the sun
Summary: Alistair Shepard doesn’t want to take a vacation. Unfortunately for him, Dr. Chakwas disagrees. Lucky for him, he’s at least got a buddy to complain about it with. Nothing like having your pilot there - now if only they could agree on the Normandy’s gender. Oh well, they got time until the Normandy’s fixed.
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There was nothing like a sunny beach to remind Alistair Shepard that he hated beaches and the sun.
“Get some sun, she said, it’s good for you… pretty sure a doctor is supposed to warn you against skin cancer, but what do I know? I’m just a medic…”
Maybe it was a little immature, but he definitely kicked at the sand in front of him. Perhaps if he had been in a better mood, he would have appreciated the fact it was blue and sparkly. However, even that couldn’t save him as he scowled down at his feet. Right then, it was just an insult to his growing injury.
He would have rather been going off and finding the collectors, but something wrong with the Normandy had led them to stopping on the planet while the techs figured it out. Even then, he would have preferred getting his hands dirty getting the sexiest ship he had ever seen airborne. However, he wasn’t – he wasn’t allowed.
Yes, allowed was the correct word this time. He may not have been under the Alliance at the moment, what with being dead and all, but Alistair still had to follow orders. In this case, they were the doctor’s. Dr. Chakwas had called him in not long after they had landed, showing him his latest readings. His stress was through the roof, and he was going through anxiety pills like there was no tomorrow.
He had, of course, tried to argue it was a result of coming back to life, but she hadn’t believed him. Honestly, he hadn’t even really believed it himself as he had said it. Lying really wasn’t one of his fortes. Fixing shit, hamsters – he was good with those. Lying, not so much. That was why people called him a boy scout. Well, that and he listened to doctor’s orders. He had only wished those orders hadn’t involved kicking him out of the airlock after making him change his clothes in the medbay. Apparently, armor wasn’t really appreciated on a beach.
Fine… if he got his ass shot, he was blaming her. Besides, she would be the one patching him up anyway. Hooray for pyrrhic victories.
“Investigate the beach my ass…” he sighed, running a hand over his hair as he sat back in his seat. From where he was sitting under a beach umbrella, it was all bright skies and warm waters. And sand. So much fucking sand. The shit was everywhere, including on him. At least the sand he was used to was pale enough to not show up against his skin. This shit, oh, this shit was going to be fucking annoying. It was making him sparkle like a fucking 21st century vampire, even as he tried to avoid it.
And even if he could, he wasn’t allowed back on the ship until it was fixed… so he was stuck under that beach umbrella, devoted to people watching and trying not to fry.
You know you don’t have to stay under the umbrella, Commander. You could use some sun.
It was rare for Dr. Chakwas to come in through his omni-tool, but no doubt she could sense a disturbance in the force. That, or she had a camera on him. Honestly, he wasn’t sure, but it didn’t put him in a good mood as he stretched out. At least the chair was somewhat comfortable, but that wasn’t saying much.
“I go out there and I’m a lobster in five minutes.” He adjusted his sunglasses, laying back. “No, Taako’s good out here. In fact, if you need me to come back and supervise the re- “
No.
Her voice was as flat as the beach and just as stinging. Alistair scowled at this as he let out a sigh. Well, it had been worth the effort. Persistence was one of his strong suits – or was it one of his flaws? Eh, it depended on who you asked. Right then, Dr. Chakwas was definitely considering it the latter of her tone was anything to go by.
Couldn’t blame him for trying though.
You need the rest, Commander. Your heart rate has been far too elevated. Even a new heart can’t take the strain for long.
“I know… but couldn’t I do it inside?” There was no missing the sulking tone to his voice as he sighed again. “At least then I could hang out with Saren.”
Grunt is taking excellent care of Saren. Now, take care of yourself. We have an estimated two hours until the repairs are complete.
“Yes, ma’am.” His eyeroll was hidden by his glasses as the call cut out. Once alone, Alistair shook his head and laid back. Maybe if he was lucky, nobody would pay attention to the sight of a pasty redhead hiding under a beach umbrella. If that was the case, he was content to try napping.
Well… he would’ve if he wasn’t reminded of the stupid sand, stupid water, and the fact he’d been kicked off his own ship for an enforced vacation.
“Fuck.”
“Hey, language. There are probably some kids around here. Do you want them picking up swear words from humanity’s first Spectre?”
A new voice drew Alistair’s attention as he sat up, pushing his sunglasses to his forehead. Someone had taken the seat next to him, stretching out in a way they clearly didn’t get to normally. It took him a second – normally, those hairy legs had pants on them – but he knew the face and the laugh anywhere as reality set back in.
“Joker?”
“What, did you think you were the only one to get vacation exiled? The techs said I kept interfering with their tests on the Normandy.” The pilot nudged a can over. He came bearing Sprite. This was why he was Alistair’s favorite. “Figured a peace offering would help your mood some.”
It did. The Spectre was more than happy to accept the can and take a deep sip. Something about cold sugar water did wonders to elevate his mood, and when he sat back again he didn’t feel quite as pissed. He was still pissed, mind you, but it wasn’t as bad. Honestly, he had gone to sub krogan rampage to annoyed hamster honestly.
What, the Normandy was his ship. He didn’t like people messing with it.
“Thanks.”
Joker chuckled as he leaned back, enjoying the shade. “Surprised you’re not out there swimming or whatever normal people do at the beach. Chakwas gave you the swim binder, right?”
Yes, he was wearing it underneath the short-sleeved jacket he had managed to grab before being forced out of the airlock in nothing but flip-flops and a pair of board shorts. It was just as uncomfortable as his regular one, but there was strange comfort in that. At least there was something familiar for him.
“I don’t like going around in just a binder.” His words trailed off as he felt his cheeks heat, even in the summer sun. “Besides, that way I can keep you company. Can’t have my best pilot breaking anything trying to impress the ladies.”
Next to him, Joker snorted. “Unless you’re cheating on me behind my back, I’m your only pilot. Besides, you know that the Normandy’s my only lady, Commander.”
Alistair found himself snickering as well as he allowed his sunglasses to fall back over his eyes. “That’s too bad, because I’m fairly certainly the Normandy is a man. And you can’t argue with me, it’s my ship and I get to make the rules.”
Well, at least the rules that didn’t concern throwing him out the airlock. Apparently, he could be overruled there. Wasn’t that technically mutiny? When he got back on the Normandy, he would need to look into that. Maybe he would finally get to toss some people out the airlock. Consider it returning the favor…
Wow, he could just feel the little red number in the back of his mind go up with that one.
“Damn, now you got me right in the middle of insubordination. Going to have to disagree, because after flying her, I know she’s a woman.” Joker was still grinning as the two of them did their best to avoid the sun. “You sure you’re not getting the wires crossed, Commander?
“I am the biggest fucking homosexual you know, Jeff Moreau. I know a sexy man’s energy when I see it.”
The two paused, fixing each other with a deadpan glance. The beach was now their battleground, two opposing forces meeting in the no man’s land where neither would give ground. It was an old war, one that would have no victors.
Naturally, it only took them a few seconds to break once everything sunk in.
A few seconds later, the laughter started with two octaves harmonizing in a weird staccato that made Alistair’s insides feel like something had just been scraped out. It was stupid, he knew it was, but something about the whole argument just made him want to laugh harder. For once, he didn’t argue – down he went, doubled over as tears beaded in his eyes.
Joker wasn’t much better, but he was a bit more careful. After all, the two were tied neck and neck for most ribs broken on the Normandy. Chakwas wouldn’t want him pulling ahead and obtaining the dubious honor, so he made sure not to break anything as he leaned against the armrest of his chair, turning red.
Clearly, they were both going insane. But at least they weren’t alone.
“Man energy… right.” It took a few shaky breaths for the pilot to regain his normal tone. His cheeks were still a little red, even under the beard. Of course, that was nothing compared to his commanding officer – Alistair knew he probably looked like a tomato right then. “Shit, I needed that.”
The Spectre nodded as he moved his sunglasses to wipe away a tear. “Same here. Maybe that’s why we got kicked off the Normandy.”
“No, I’m pretty sure it’s because they don’t want you crawling around and getting stuck somewhere. It’s kind of embarrassing to have to rescue your CO from the ducts.” Joker chuckled as Alistair turned redder. They still weren’t letting him live that down – it was one time! “Apart from the whole dying thing, it’s a miracle you made it to 30 honestly.”
Now it was Alistair’s turn to chuckle as he replaced his sunglasses. “I’m only 29, actually. My birthday’s not for – “
He paused, sitting up when he realized Joker had stopped talking. When he lifted his sunglasses, he realized the man was staring at him, wide-eyed like he had just announced that the vorcha had just gotten a seat on the Council. No, it was worse than that – somehow, it could be. He was downright gobsmacked.
“What, did I say something weird?”
His words snapped the pilot out of it. Joker shook his head, coming back to life. “No, it’s just… damn, Commander. You’re younger than me?”
“You’re older than me?”
Now they were both staring at each other, finding it hard to say anything. Alistair should have been used to this, given his rather quick rise in rank and the weird position he occupied. A number of people under him were older, probably a decade or more in some accounts. Yet he had never extended that thought to Joker, despite everything.
Shit, was he honestly even 29? He had been dead those two years and all…
“Damn, we got a kid leading us against the Collectors.” Joker chuckled despite everything. “No wonder you don’t drink, they probably wouldn’t let you in the bar.”
The Spectre resisted the urge to stick out his tongue as he returned to laying down. “Don’t hate on me, old man. I can’t help the baby face.”
“Hey, with age comes wisdom. If I had a lawn, I’d tell you to get off it.” Joker chuckled as he leaned back as well. “Guess I can tell you to pull up your pants or something. That’s what wise elders do, right?”
His pants were always pulled up, thank you very much… it kept his dick in. You try managing two pairs of underwear and a packer if your pants are too low.
Still, Alistair found himself in a much better mood as he let the heat take him over. The sound of the waves, coupled by the bubbling in his ignored can of soda, were almost soothing as he felt his eyes grow heavy.
“You look like you’re about to conk out, Commander.”
He answered with a yawn, eyes finally closing all the way. “I think you might be on to something there, Joker. Wake me up if it looks like I’m about to get roasted.”
There was a soft chuckle to his side. “Alright, but I’m taking pictures for the rest of the crew.”
Alistair could live with that. And so he did, as he felt himself drifting off to the weird dream-free zone he often found himself in. Maybe it was the sound of the waves, or the dark coolness brought on by the overhead umbrella. Whatever it was, he gave himself over to a much-needed nap time.
Somewhere, Chakwas would be proud of him. Look at him, following doctor’s orders like a good boy. Maybe he would make it to 30 after all.
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